


Short Skirt Party

by SuperNovaBaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Boys in Skirts, Crossdressing, Dirty Dancing, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 23:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16229603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperNovaBaby/pseuds/SuperNovaBaby
Summary: Dean and Cas go to a short skirt party on their college campus and well, stuff happens. Not really a plot here.





	Short Skirt Party

**Author's Note:**

> AU - college time period, 2004/5 ish; oneshot; Dean and Cas established relationship; took some liberties with the time period; Dean has a thing for Brittany Spears and Billie Joe Armstrong. Some of my friends went to a short skirt party in college so that's where the idea came from. I really don't know much about greek life so yeah *shrugs*.
> 
> Reference to Dean being tied up but not really described so I didn't tag that kink.

Dean had no idea how he’d let Cas talk him into this. He felt like an ass as he tugged on the hem of his kilt and walked up the steps to the sorority house. Sure the Delta-Delta-Delta’s spring party was the “social event of the season” as Cas had said but did it have to include a “twist” this year? Dean recalled how Cas had casually informed him they’d be going and that Dean would have to meet him there because Cas wouldn’t have time to come home after his Thursday night poetry workshop. 

Then he’d said the words that sealed Dean’s fate: “Oh and it’s a skirt party, so you have to wear a skirt.”  
“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts and I sure as hell don’t wear skirts,” Dean said.  
Cas just turned and fixed him with a look Dean recognized, one stupid superior eyebrow raised. “It’s for charity, Dean. TriDelta is donating all the money after the cost of booze to The Blue Bench.”  
“I mean, that’s great, Cas, but skirts?! I don’t know, man.”  
“Huh. That’s funny, Dean, I seem to remember someone promising me I got to pick the next date after you drug me to that god-awful WWF show.”  
“But Cas - Stone Cold Steve Austin was there - Stone Cold - ‘I’m gonna open up a can of whoop ass!’” Dean protested, imitating Stone Cold’s stage voice.  
Cas just stared at him, head tilted to the side.  
Dean sighed. “Alright, fine, but you owe me one.”  
Cas slid into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I think I might have some ideas to encourage you,” he said, his voice lowered into the range Dean liked best. 

Dean smiled at the memory even as he struggled to get his kilt to cooperate. He’d chosen a green-based plaid with stripes of sky blue and thinner, intersecting stripes of gold. Paired with a plain black t-shirt and his ancient combat boots and leather jacket from his punk phase he supposed he didn’t look too ridiculous. 

As he entered the door to the party, he paid his cup fee to the sorority girls giggling at his kilt and shrugged, smiling wide and winking at them. A note of pain made him wince as he brushed his coat over his right wrist. He soothed his fingers over the rope burn on his wrist, a souvenir from Cas’s “encouragement” session. Well, he figured, he could put up with a little skirt wearing if it meant making his super hot boyfriend happy. Because when Cas was happy, Dean was happy. Exhausted, but happy. Someone filled his cup with beer and he went to look for Cas.

*****

As Dean shoved his way toward the adhoc dance floor it was all he could do to keep roaming hands at bay. Damn, apparently everyone else was several beers ahead of him. Everywhere he looked, sorority girls were grinding up on lucky frat boys and on each other. Dean enjoyed the show but mostly he wanted to find Cas and get the hell out of there.

A familiar beat blared out from the loudspeaker and the crowd let out a united cheer. Ugh, Dean thought to himself, why did it have to be a 90s-themed party? He could deal with the flannel and even the skirts, but he drew the line at ‘The Bomb’ by The Bucketheads. 

Dean rounded a corner and finally managed to shoulder his way through the crowd. Someone put a shot in his hand and he downed it without thinking. Tequila. That’ll do, ladies, thought Dean. Finally catching a glimpse of the dance floor his eyes were drawn to a shapely pair of legs wrapped in thigh-highs. Dean followed the legs up, taking in the gap between the top of the stockings and an indecently short black, pleated mini skirt which barely covered what could only be described as the best ass he’d ever seen. Dean watched, mesmerized, as the ass moved fluidly, thrusting and shimmying to the beat. 

Disappointment stabbed through him as the beautiful backside started to turn away from him. But then he looked up to see a bare midriff and a chest wrapped in a cropped white dress shirt, the ends tied in a bow. Dean swallowed. Hard. He knew the owner of that ass. He met Cas’s eyes. For one long second, Dean held his breath as Cas backed it up against one of the sorority girls who was having the time of her life. Goddamn it, thought Dean. Cas knew he had a thing for Britney Spears. A thing he would never, never admit to anyone else. Stupid Cas had got him tipsy and tickled him until he admitted it. And admiring Cas in that get up was leading to a situation that did not go well with wearing a kilt.

The song ended, and Dean immediately recognized the next one. Thank God someone had broken out of the late 90s playlist and put on Sexy Back. He sprang into action, striding toward Cas. He turned toward the girl Cas had been dancing with. Leaning in he said “Mind if I cut in?” gesturing toward Cas. She just shrugged and backed away.

“May I?” he asked Cas. Cas nodded, once. Dean took Cas’s hand and spun him around then pulled him close, hands on his hips. He swayed his hips to the music and ground into Cas letting him feel how Cas’s outfit was affecting him. Dean felt Cas let out a breath and he tipped his head back on to Dean’s shoulder. Dean rubbed his cheek along Cas’s neck and breathed him in. Jesus, he smelled good, thought Dean.

He gripped Cas’s hip tighter and turned so that his lips were next to Cas’s ear. “Britney? Really, Cas? That outfit is ridiculous,” he growled.

Cas pushed his ass back more firmly against Dean and tilted his head back to say, “You love it.”

Dean rubbed himself against Cas’s fantastic ass and captured his lips in a kiss. Dean was vaguely aware of catcalls and shouts of ‘get a room!’ from the crowd. Cas pulled away from the kiss but kept his body close. 

The music changed and Dean was surprised to hear a slower song. Cas spun in Dean’s arms and clasped his hands behind Dean’s neck. Dean pressed the flat of one palm to Cas’s back and ran tips of his fingers up to the spot between Cas’s shoulder blades that he knew from experience was a sensitive area. He watched Cas’s pupils dilate and felt his chest heave. Dean pulled him even closer and pushed his thigh between Cas’s, letting him grind against him. Cas snuck one hand up and scratched his blunt nails through the short hair at the base of Dean’s skull. 

Dean felt his eyes roll up in his head. Dammit, two could play at the ‘I know exactly where to touch you to make you lose your mind game,’ he supposed. Dean leaned in and said “If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to fuck you right here.”

Cas gasped, pushed himself even closer. “Follow me,” he whispered, spinning and leading Dean by the hand from the crowded dance floor. Dean felt eyes on them as they made their exit but he simply couldn’t muster the effort to give a shit.

*****

The minute the door was shut and locked, Cas shoved Dean up against the wall of the second-floor bathroom they’d ducked into. He ran his eyes up and down. Dean felt Cas’s gaze like his hands were running over his body. He shivered under the intensity.

“Where -” Cas started then cleared his throat, “Where did you get that?” he asked gesturing to Dean’s kilt.  
“What this? I’ve had it for a while. I went a little overboard on my Green Day enthusiasm in high school. In addition to Britney, might have had a thing for Billie Joe.” 

Cas stepped forward and grabbed the lapels of Dean’s jacket in his fists and pulled him in. Just before their lips met, he whispered, “Me too. But you’re hotter.”

Dean returned Cas’s kiss and parted his lips for Cas’s tongue. He kept his hands against the wall, letting Cas set the pace. Cas moved backed slightly and pushed his jacket from his shoulders. Dean let it fall off his arms to the floor, revealing the one-size-too-small strategically ripped black t-shirt he wore under it. 

Cas’s eyes widened when he saw the shirt, slashed just enough to reveal a bit of Dean’s collarbone in one spot and the top of his hip in another. Dean felt himself smirk at Cas’s reaction. 

“Like what you see, Cas?” he asked putting his most smug voice on.  
Cas just nodded and moved closer. Before Dean knew what he was up to, he slid both of his hands in to the tear, gripped the flimsy material in both fists and yanked in opposite directions, ripping the shirt open. Without missing a beat, he mouthed over Dean’s left nipple and teased it with his tongue before sucking it, hard.

“Fuck!” Dean yelled and threw his head back against the wall. Cas moved up to his neck and rubbed one hand over Dean’s crotch. Cas licked and ran his teeth over Dean’s throat. Dean threaded one hand through the hair at the back of Cas’s head and pulled him closer, gripping lightly. He laid the other over Cas’s chest, sliding inside his open button up, feeling his heartbeat. 

Cas moved back up to kissing him, his mouth demanding. Dean could barely keep up. He worked to untie Cas’s shirt and when he finally succeeded he slipped it from Cas’s shoulders. Dean leaned back, surprised.

“Cas, are you wearing body glitter?!”  
“What?!” Cas demanded, his hair a mess, and his lips swollen from the kissing.  
“There’s fucking glitter everywhere,” Dean said.  
Cas rolled his eyes and looked at Dean. “It goes with the outfit, Dean,” he said. “You don’t like it?”  
Dean grabbed Cas by the hips and spun him around reversing their positions. He pushed his hips against Cas, close enough for Cas to feel the hard length of him through their skirts.  
“I didn’t say that,” he growled and attacked Cas’s neck.  
Cas moaned and moved his head to give Dean more access. He rutted against Dean’s thigh. 

Goddamn he was so hard and it felt so good to have Cas against him. As much as he was enjoying the making out, Dean couldn’t wait. He leaned down and mouthed over Cas’s bare chest, probably covering his own face in glitter, he thought randomly. Dean ran his hands over both of Cas’s hard nipples, pinching them lightly. Cas gasped and Dean sunk to his knees.

Dean waited until Cas looked down and met his gaze. Then he ran his hands up Cas’s thighs and pushed the skirt up. He drew in a sharp breath. He wasn’t prepared for what greeted him. Cas was wearing white lace panties with a tiny blue bow at the top. Panties that were stretched obscenely over his hard cock. 

Dean let out his breath like he’d been punched in the gut. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He couldn’t stop staring.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asked.  
Dean shook his head. “Nothing, nothing, baby. Just, Goddamn Cas.”

He leaned in and rubbed his face over Cas’s cock. Cas gasped. Dean mouthed over Cas, tasting and smelling how turned on he was. He gripped Cas’s thigh and moved over to nip and suck a mark there just above one of the thigh highs.

Cas moaned and squirmed as Dean bypassed his cock to suck and nip at his other thigh. He pulled back and met Cas’s eyes again. 

“Somethin’ you need, baby?”  
“Dean,” Cas growled.  
“Yeah Cas?”  
“I’d really appreciate it if you’d suck my cock now.” Cas finished.  
“Happy to oblige,” Dean said, pulling the panties down and finally freeing Cas’s cock. 

He licked a stripe up the length of him and then took the tip in his mouth. He sucked at the spot just under the head of Cas’s cock where he knew he was sensitive. Dean used one hand to stroke Cas while fondling his balls with his other. He concentrated on how hard Cas was and the noises Cas was making. God he could probably come just listening to Cas moan, he thought.

He felt Cas’s hand in his hair. He sucked Cas down taking all of him in and relaxing his throat. Dean reached a hand up to encourage Cas to grip his hair. 

“Oh, oh Dean,” Cas moaned.  
Dean hummed around Cas’s cock and bobbed his head faster. He reached down and started stroking himself.

He felt Cas suck in a breath.  
“Oh my God, Dean, no underwear? Fuck.”  
Dean moaned and didn’t let up the pace. He knew Cas was close when he started swearing.

Dean pulled back off to suck just on that spot again, releasing himself to grip Cas once again. 

“Ung, Dean,” Cas moaned and came. 

He swallowed once and Cas had his hands under his arms and was hauling him to his feet. Cas’s lips met his in a sloppy kiss. He wiped one hand over his still leaking cock and then gripped Dean, stroking him hard and fast and just the way he knew Dean loved it.

“Oh fuck, Cas, baby, yeah, like that,” Dean said.  
Cas leaned in and sucked hard on Dean’s neck just below his ear.  
And that was it, Dean came like freight train, his vision whiting out. 

He lost track of time for a minute. He was vaguely aware of someone pounding on the door and Cas trying to get his attention.

“Dean. Dean! We have to go,” Cas was saying.  
“Huh? Oh yeah, okay,” he said.

He tried to pull the shirt Cas had ripped apart back over to cover himself. The person outside pounded harder.

“Dammit, Cas you ruined my shirt.”

Cas looked up from tying the ends of his dress shirt back into a bow.

“Oops, I did it again?” He said.

Dean couldn’t help the laughter that welled up out of him. He pulled Cas in for one more kiss and hug.

“God, I love you, you dork.”


End file.
